Cartographies of Peace
A Poem by Heidi Barr
From the collection, Church of Shadow and Light
A while later, all at once the birds lift as one, a giant murmuration of sound soaring over still waters into the horizon beyond, silence stretching out in their absence, leaving a longing for a world where people are like birds, a new kind of murmuration coalescing only for peace, within and expanding over all, guns laid down between shadows and light, coating the land with goodness and grace, creating new soft places to land.
The road is winding, and I take it anyway. Winding roads give texture enough to enhance the hours.
Listen to the war within yourself—what does it have to say about what it means to be peace?
Sunbursts always find a way to bleed light through darkness.
May we all find those soft places to land, whether the search keeps us tending home fires or journeying deep into the dark and shadowy places that aren’t on the map. May we create cartographies that allow space for all that gives life. May we be the mapmakers who outline a world where peace reigns.
Every moment is the end of something and the beginning of something else. What ends now? And what begins?
Heidi Barr (she/her) is a writer and wellness coach whose work is founded on a commitment to cultivating ways of being that are life-giving and sustainable for people, communities, and the planet. She is the author of several books of creative nonfiction, including Collisions of Earth and Sky and Woodland Manitou, and co author of 12 Tiny things. She’s also authored two other poetry collections, one cookbook, and is editor of “The Mindful Kitchen,” a wellness column in The Wayfarer Magazine. One of the inaugural Poets of Place for the lower St. Croix Valley, her poetry has been featured in numerous publications, including the St. Paul Almanac and South Dakota in Poems. She lives with her family in rural Minnesota, where they tend a large vegetable garden, explore nature, and do their best to live simply.
Learn more at heidibarr.com.
